Happenstance
by Aprill May
Summary: [MS AU] Alright, who spiked the punch?
1. Action Jackson

Before I say anything, go read everything by Starzki.  
Thanks to le betas Kat and Wendy.  
I don't own anything.

A/N: Well, I originally wrote up a decent little author's note to attempt and explain why I wrote this. But it was so much simpler to write this:

Kat: Me n May  
Kat: the unstoppable duo ;-)  
May: on crack!

* * *

**Happenstance**

1: _Action Jackson_

---

----------

_A missed chance, a waste of time, driving across the country without a map -- that's what life is right now_, a sullen young woman thought with a sigh. Watching the large chunks of ice slosh around her cup hypnotically, she drew in another deep breath.

"Miss Sango, I must say you look absolutely mouth-watering this evening," a familiar deep voice interrupted her retrospection.

She looked down at her modest black dress and back up at him. "I wouldn't really use the word 'mouth-watering,'" she replied flatly, taking another sip of her drink. "For someone so articulate, that's the best you could come up with? I'm flattered."

"Punch?" he said casually, eyeing the transparent cup. "Why so unadventurous, Sango? It's the new year, at least have a glass of champagne."

"It's this tangy sort of punch," she observed, holding the cup eye level.

"I'm sure it is," the male said in amusement.

She ignored him. "It's not time to toast yet," she retorted grudgingly. "And this party sucks."

"Because it's a company party?" he suggested. "I never knew this many attractive women worked with us."

Sango shook her head. "The pretty ones are the private secretaries," she said very slowly.

"I need to get me one of those," Miroku thought aloud. He set his gaze on her.

"No."

"I didn't even ask yet!"

"You were going to." She paused. "Miroku," Sango began to almost whine. "Why don't you get back to the party instead of hanging around out here? It's cold out."

"I wanted to bring you a glass to toast," he told her, shrugging. "It's a quarter to midnight, anyhow."

"You actually noticed I wasn't enjoying the festivities?"

"Of course I did. The last thing I want to have on my mind is that instead of enjoying the crappy company party only the employees with absolutely nothing to do tonight attended, my favourite fellow employee is outside feeling sorry for herself." He waved the glass under her nose. "It's a new year. It's an open bar."

She narrowed her eyes at the frothy liquid. "I'll have to refuse the offer," she said curtly, sipping her punch.

"You are in need of some action."

She raised an eyebrow. "What sort of action might that be?"

"Let me rephrase that. You need to do something different. I see you go through the same routine every day. Walk in, sit down, type, lunch, break, type, leave. And now, you've spent the entire evening nursing your cup of punch. Try something new!" he pitched, still offering the glass. "Ten to midnight."

"And what if I do? So I took a little bit of champagne on New Year's, so did a few billion other people," she scoffed. "It won't make any difference tomorrow, because everyone will have been drunk and merrily singing and puking and being generally raucous the previous night! They won't even _remember_. Now, why start a new year off not knowing that you made a complete ass of yourself in public?" she concluded her verbiage with a flourish, flushing.

"Seriously now," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "That was unnecessarily long-winded. Come inside, have one completely innocuous glass, and do the countdown with me." He attempted a persuasive smile. Then will you grant me the first dance of the new year?"

"Dance?" she echoed, staring at him in skepticism. Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced a shooting star sailing across the sky. Turning back to him, she narrowed her eyes. "And the kissing part?"

"Who said anything about a kissing part?" he asked, looking away and whistling, as if it the question was such a juvenile thing to ask. "But if you are so inclined . . . "

Sango shook her head again as she headed up the concrete steps towards the large doors marking the entrance of the banquet hall. He kept one step below her, letting his hand trail down her shoulder, her spine, to rest at the base of her back. Shivering, she whipped her head around to stare at him.

"What are you doing?"

He feigned winsome innocence again. "Making sure you don't fall."

She turned back forward, huffing and stiff. "I don't fall easily," she assured him in a testy voice, taking another gulp of punch.

"I never said you were a pushover, or easily attained." She could almost feel him smirking. "To ascribe such an attribute to you would be a misnomer, a mistake." He ran his fingers up her arm to her elbow. "For you, I exercise providence."

_In other words, he has a complicated, top-secret master plan to kidnap me._Flinching, she ran up a few steps away from him. "Looks like you've had some to drink as well," she snapped, attempting to whirl around. "No more for --"

Apparently, the powers that be decided that today was Embarass-Sango-Day, and she lost her footing in the heels she was ever so unaccustomed to.

She barrelled down a few steps and inevitably bowled over Miroku, and they ended up crumpled on the concrete below, Sango's cup of punch tossed about and rolling into some decorative shrubbery.

And when she looked up, he was observing her with a knowing grin. "Instability and weakened motor skills; one of the first noticeable effects of alcohol."

She silenced him with a glare, standing up and holding onto the stair railing. "I'm _not_ drunk!"

--

As they entered the assigned hall (aptly named "Optimism") the moving lights and ambience assaulted their eyes and ears. In Sango's opinion, some laughter and a few moving bodies on the dance floor wasn't a sign of a successful party to her, but to everyone else, the soiree was in full swing.

"Must've picked up when I left," she murmured, tapping the rim of the cup against her lower lip. "Figures."

Miroku shifted beside her as he looked at his watch. "Almost time," he mouthed.

Sango nodded indifferently. She wondered vaguely about leaving soon. She wanted to get up early to visit the family graves . . . but the party really needed some life. Her? The life of the party?

The hall seemed to get brighter and she felt herself gradually becoming less wound and uptight. The music was pounding, people were everywhere and as the end to the year came, she just wanted to dance.

Until, the time came.

"Five!" the crowd chorused.

The cup of punch was removed from her hand and replaced with a glass of sparkling champagne. Glancing at it, she looked back towards the large time display on a projection screen. _Well, a good mood is kind of contagious_.

"Four!" she started shouting along with them.

Earlier everyone around her had really been yelling too loudly -- she couldn't hear herself think. But now it was sort of muffled in her ears. What the hell, she ought to know better than to listen to Miroku of all people, but she just felt really airy and light.

"Three!" she screamed.

_Stupid Miroku. Look at those private secretaries all coddling him. I bet none of them are still paying off their student loans_, she glowered, distracted.

"Two!"

_This party was really sucking earlier._

"One!"

Confetti and ribbons exploded around the mass of people crammed into the hall. People shouted and screamed, momentarily forgetting they were just normal, average people and that this was any other day. At least, it felt like a normal day to Sango.

She raised the glass to her lips and sipped the alcohol slowly. It felt really warm going down her throat -- similar to that tangy punch from earlier. Come to think of it, the punch had been considerably hotter in her mouth.

Taking another sip, she realized that the noise and tumult must be too much for her. She was beginning to sway on the spot. Downing the rest of the glass, she turned around, hearing Miroku trying to get to her through the crowd.

She waved, and hiccuped. Holding a hand to her mouth in surprise, she began to giggle.

"Oh guess _what_ Miroku!" she laughed as he finally broke through the crowd. He barely caught the glass as it dropped from her hands.

"Give that back!" she demanded, reaching for it. "It's real crystal! Give me yours too, so I can have a complete set."

"You shouldn't steal from the company, Sango," he chided, laughing a bit. "Comes out of our payrolls."

She let out a moderately loud chortle. "Like _you_ don't steal from work all the time! Hello, Mr. "I-seem-to-have misplaced-my-laptop!" Well, if you need another one, just pick one out from your collection at home!"

He waved a hand around, shushing her. "Let's not get carried away here," he said loudly, over the excitement of the party. "New year means forget the past!"

"Hey!" Sango poked him on the chest. "The punch was pretty good! Get me more of that please. The champagne was kind of overly tingly."

"I think it was a little too good," he said in mild suspicion. "Anyway, happy new year, Sango," he greeted, grinning in amusement. "Have a great one."

"It's the new year?" she said. "Oh right!" she clapped her hands. "Thank you Miroku! You've always been there for me -- every day of my dead end job!"

"You're welcome," he smiled.

"And that time I taped your arms to your sides on your birthday!"

"You forget the taping of my hands to my ass," he reminded sulkily.

"That too!" she sang, hitting him on the arm. Then her happy smile flickered. "And when everyone died."

"You're welcome." This was a tad uncomfortable for him.

"Yup! You went with me every year!" she smiled widely and hugged him around the middle, before drawing away and putting her hands on her hips. Her mood changed again. "But you're always so mean to me!" she burst, grabbing the front of his shirt.

"I'm so mean . . . to you?" he repeated, confused. "All right, who spiked the punch?" he yelled loudly into the crowd. Unfortunately, they all ignored him. _Looks like they all had the punch_.

"I'm not mean," he said, turning his attention to the flushed young woman.

"You are!" she jostled him a little. "'Private secretary'? 'Mouth-watering'? I have no idea what you're thinking sometimes!"

"Sango, that's not really being --"

"Silence!" she boomed, laughing a little at his reaction. "Now you'll see what you missed out on!"

Pulling him down sharply she pushed her mouth against his awkwardly. He was a bit wary of enjoying the moment due to the fear she might bite his mouth off.

"Come, come, New Year's Day!" she giggled against his mouth, before pushing him away and holding up her glass, which she had snatched back from him. "I foresee much action for Sango!"

"A toast!" she shouted to the occupants, sprinkling them with some of the champagne. "To action!"

There was a tinkling of glasses colliding. Holding onto Miroku's arm, she turned to him and winked.

--

"Shit."

Her head was really pounding. Squeezing her eyes shut tightly, she covered her ears with both hands and rolled over face first into her pillows.

She rubbed her eyes, groaning as she noticed the makeup marks on her hands. Then she looked at the rest of her body.

So that's why it was a bit cold.

She sighed loudly, and then immediately became quiet. Rolling over to her other side quietly, she fought the urge to throw up at the lump next to her, sharing her blanket. The stocky, dirty-blond, contentedly smiling lump.

Whipping the covers away from the figure's face, she gave him a two second glance before screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Who the fuck are you?!"

The male next to her twitched and sat up, and she immediately kicked him in the gut until he fell off the edge of the mattress.

"Wait -- " he sputtered, trying to collect himself. "Don't you remember me?"

"Obviously not!" she roared, tugging the sheets completely off the bed and wrapping them around her thrice. It hurt her eyes to look at the stranger, now covering himself with a hastily grabbed (and strategically placed) pillow.

"But, you asked me to come home with you," the man explained meekly. "Don't you know me?"

Sango only brandished her fists. "Who are you?"

"Remember? From the mailroom?" he squeaked, holding his stomach with one hand. "I brought you the mail a few times?"

"The mailroom?" Sango said in awe. "But the party -- don't tell me . . . "

His face melted into a similar expression. "Oh yes."

She slapped her hands to her face and groaned. "You were there?"

He looked a little affronted. "Hey, mailroom boys are employees too." Then his visage become dreamy. "I did an office babe -- wow. The guys will never believe this!"

"I still don't," she moaned.

"Hey," he said excitedly. "Are you older?"

Sango suddenly felt very dirty indeed. She also suddenly realized in horror that yes, there were men more perverted than Miroku out there.

Oh, the horror.

Miroku! He didn't watch out for her! He let the _mail clerk_ take her home!

But it was because she was being sulky. Right? Sulky, like complaining, whining, refusing to have fun -- and then there was the punch.

Then she became very, very upset.

"Damn it!" she swore, throwing her hands up in the air and stomping her foot. "This will ruin my life! It's over! It's official! This year sucks!"

"Was it really that bad?" the young man asked tentatively.

"You're the freaking _mail clerk_!" she rounded on him, fisting her hands. She paced around the side of the room she was on while her one night acquisition stood opposite her, awkwardly holding the pillow to hide a number of more intriguing destinations, best left to Sango's imagination. Or maybe not.

She shivered again.

"Is that a bad thing?" he questioned again.

"Let me think. Yes?" she sounded off sarcastically. "Handing me a few envelopes every few days isn't an invitation for a hook up! If you hadn't told me you _did_ hand me said envelopes, I wouldn't remember ever seeing you _at all_!"

"Miss -- "

"_What_?" she demanded in annoyance.

"I'm sorry about the whole spending the night and -- defiling you thing, but you wouldn't mind putting in a good word for me with the executives, would you? I want to -- you know -- climb up the corporate ladder."

Sango tutted in irritance, throwing on a button-up sweater to grasp the little fragment of modesty and dignity she had left.

_Gosh -- the mail clerk! _she thought angrily, crossing her arms whilst frantically pacing. _What will I do? What will everyone think? Oh no," _she remembered in dismay. "_The office gossip!" _

Now she knew what water cooler conversation would be about today.

As a release, she kicked the wall.

_I wish -- damn it -- this is my fault, but Miroku had to go and offer me his stupid drink. "You are in need of action, Sango." Asshole. I bet he set this whole thing up. The day won't end until I figure him out. Or people in general. I bet he'll be waiting there with a stupid smirk on his face. I wish I could just change what happened! Please, please, please, let me change what happened._

Deciding on kicking the overnight guest unceremoniously onto the lawn (or maybe out of the window) she turned around to talk to him when she heard a distinct thumping outside her door -- followed by muffled shouting.

It came closer. Both occupants of her room looked towards the closed door.

"I'm coming! I'll save you!"

Curious, she put her hand to the doorknob. However, the person on the other side seemed overly excited to get in. She barely got out of the way of the swinging door and recognized the panicked face of her sibling before he swung a large frying pan at her head.

"Oh, shoot," her brother said sheepishly, standing above her. He was kind of blurred around the edges.

"Kohaku -- you . . . idiot," she said, slurring the words together.

"I'm sorry! I thought someone was attacking you!" he tried to explain. "The screams, the thumping -- and who's this guy in your room?"

She heard none of it, because she was already down for the count.

"Now I've done it," Kohaku groaned, bending beside her and patting her head. The stranger cleared his throat.

"Hello."

"Hi, I'm Kohaku?" he said awkwardly, extending his hand. "You must be the random one night stand."


	2. Good Morning Sunshine

-pimps Starzki- (I bought one percent milk today.)

-pimps Katrina5-

-pimps Windesprite-

Standard disclaimers apply!

And now to mess with your heads.

* * *

**Happenstance**

2: _Good Morning Sunshine_

-

-

"This morning we have a few winds, cloudiness and a temperature of thirty degrees," the weatherman blared from the radio.

Sango groggily opened her eyes, holding the covers just below her nose before yanking them away, checking to see if she was naked, springing into a defensive stance on the mattress, and looking around wildly.

In the middle of wondering why there were no bumps on her head, she noticed there was no one around, no sign that anyone had even been in the room other than her._ 'Odd_. _I guess Kohaku managed to get him out of the house. How, I have no idea._'

She pushed the button on her alarm clock, bringing the radio description of the traffic conditions to a halt.

Speaking of her brother . . .

"Ane-ue," her brother shouted through the door. "I'm leaving now."

"Okay," she called back. "Wait!" She touched her head gingerly. No matter that the pain had strangely subsided, she was not one to dismiss the fact that her brother had swung a frying pan at her head. "Where are you going?"

"To a friend's house."

"For what?" she asked, confused. "The same friend's house you went to yesterday?"

"What are you talking about? Yesterday we went to the cemetery."

"No," Sango insisted. "Last night you went to the party, the day before that we went to the cemetery."

"Sure, Ane-ue," he said knowingly. "When you figure out what day it is, call me. I'll probably be home before you anyhow."

"Where am I going?" she asked, trying not to feel stupid. It didn't work.

"You have a party!" he informed her. "You've only been complaining about it for the last two weeks."

"Yes, but it's tomorrow -"

"I'm leaving now," he interrupted. "Kagome left a message; she's going to visit her family for the weekend. She said she's leaving some time this evening, and that she'll stop over to see you later."

"But she already left! Yesterday!" Sango insisted, adamant. _'What's going on?'_

"Have a nice day, Ane-ue." He paused. "And do take some medicine." A rush of footsteps down the stairs, and she was alone in the house.

Slightly perturbed, Sango quickly turned to the wall calendar. She pressed her index finger to the little box that wasn't marked. December thirty-first. New Year's Eve. Pencilled underneath that in her neat script, was 'Company party, seven PM.'

She must have had more to drink than she'd thought.

After using the washroom, slipping on a simple shirt and skirt, and sweeping her hair into a ponytail she went downstairs and looked around. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

But Kohaku was rarely wrong. He was the type of brother who liked to remind her he was a stickler for punctuality and stability after the tumultuous years of dealing with growing up and their parent's death.

So she was really questioning her sanity right now.

He said Kagome hadn't left yet. _Well, that is just peachy,_ Sango thought. _I missed my chance to talk to her yesterday._

If she remembered correctly, she was still seeing that unemployed young man.

-

"So let me get this straight. You _think_ you got drunk last night at the company party, got picked up by a mailroom boy and had a little fling?"

"Yes!" Sango said earnestly, wrapping her hands around her coffee mug.

The girl across from her at the table gave a little sigh. "Sango, you _are_ aware that your party is tonight."

"I know . . . but I don't. It was last night, Kagome."

"And this morning . . ."

"That guy was in my bed, _naked_. Of course, I got a little - panicked. I was going to throw him out, but then Kohaku ran in -"

"And pegged you on the forehead with a frying pan?" Kagome intoned.

Sango nodded. "Yes," she said seriously.

"You know what?" her friend said brightly, stirring a packet of sugar into her iced tea. "I think you may have just had a little nightmare. You'be just been too stressed out the past few weeks."

"You think so?" Sango asked unsurely. _A nightmare? I suppose that's plausible. Today is the day that I dreamed after all. _

"You talk about the party, but the party is tonight. From there, you couldn't have gotten drunk, got picked up, and had a fling, because the party never happened yet! You're just overwhelmed, Sango. Have you been overexerting yourself again?"

"I don't think so," Sango answered, tracing the rim of her cup. "Well, work has been heavy - you know Naraku and the major holidays - he goes nuts."

Kagome nodded in agreement. "I can see why. It _is _the card season."

"But what am I going to do just in case it did happen?" Sango lamented. "I mean, should I tell Miroku?"

"Sango, it's _Miroku_," she rolled her eyes. "I bet he knows what that situation feels like."

Sango followed suit. "I'm sure he does -"

" - because it's a daily occurrence," Kagome finished. Both girls laughed.

"Yes," Kagome insisted, her eye wandering past Sango's shoulders to the stores on the opposite side of the street from the cafe they were sitting in. "I still think you're just imagining things, which isn't like you at all, might I add." Kagome winked. "Maybe your mind is telling you to mix things up once in a while."

"I doubt my mind would tell me to engage in drunk, promiscuous sex," Sango said flatly.

Kagome just smiled. "Finished your drink? I want to go over to that store across the street. You need a dress for the outing tonight, do you not?"

"Already bought one," Sango replied following a sip from her mug. "Plain. Black."

"Boring," Kagome interjected.

"It's perfect."

"Right." Another eye roll. "Well, since everything seems to be in order again, I'd better go and catch the last train out."

Sango lowered her eyes to her wristwatch. "Too bad it leaves in ten minutes."

Kagome slammed her head down on the table, rattling her tea on the table. "The last one?"

"The last one," Sango confirmed grimly.

"Let's try and catch it," Kagome declared, raising her head in resolve.

Sango looked horrified. "Now? Kagome, the station will be packed!"

"Which is why -" she paused to yank at Sango's wrist. "We have to leave now!"

-

"So, you're going to see that guy tomorrow, right?" Sango said casually as she directed her car around traffic to the station.

"He's not just 'some guy,'" Kagome corrected, now reasonably calmed down, but still fretting.

"Doesn't he have that anger management problem?"

"Hey, that's taken care of now."

Sango laughed a little as she turned. "Kagome, I don't understand why you do the things you do sometimes."

"Simple," she replied bluntly. "I'm in love."

"With an angry, unemployed, brash young man who doesn't know what he wants."

"True," Kagome thought aloud. "But when he's with me, we just forget about all that for a while. I don't want him to change, yet I do. Wanting to change him would be selfish - and I've grown to accept that - stop making fun of me!"

"I'm not," Sango said mildly as she tapped her fingers on the wheel. "But you're just so - cute - when you talk like that."

Kagome pouted. "Because you refuse to fall in love."

"I don't _refuse_,per se," her friend countered. "I'm just waiting."

"Waiting for the sun to engulf the planet?"

Sango pulled at the seat adjuster on Kagome's side until her backrest flopped backwards.

"Waiting for men to stop being such difficult things," she said in a bored tone.

"So, holding out for a hero?" Kagome sat up straight again, glowering, her hair considerably messier. "Because you're driving I can't really retaliate for that pot shot."

"Correct."

They pulled smoothly into the station, only to see that the train was already there.

"Quick, we have to get onto the platform!" Kagome panicked as she got out of the car, Sango following. They rushed up the steps where a large mass of bodies were already surging forward to diffuse into the train.

"This is the last one!" Kagome moaned in dismay as they passed another car where people's faces were pressed up against the windows. "I'm not going to make it home!" She moved briskly passed car after car, forgetting Sango who was following behind, checking them more thoroughly.

"Kagome! There's room in this -"

Someone tapped her on the shoulder. "Taking the train today?"

She turned around. "Miroku," she greeted in pleasant surprise. "I'm not. I'm just trying to find space for a friend to get on."

"Well, would friend mind if I sneaked into this car?" he asked in a low voice. "Want to get home to get ready for the party, you see."

"You're actually going?"

"Why not?"

"Don't wink at me," she told him as his eye began the telltale twitch. Glancing behind her, she was unable to find Kagome in the crowd. Sighing deeply, she pushed him into the open doors, and barely saw him grab onto an overhead bar before a million others piled in after him.

"Sango! Did you find me any -"

The engine began to whirr and the doors slid shut with a puff of displaced air.

"- room."

-

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Kagome said again as she moped in the passenger's seat.

"No, it's not. We went out and lost track of time, and I couldn't speed enough to get you to the station. As a result, you won't make it to the other side of town to see your boyfriend and your family in time for the new year, and will be stuck in my stinking basement for another day."

"At first I was optimistic, Sango, but now you just all-out ruined it."

"At work, they call me Miss Happy Smile Cupcake Hugs."

"Fitting."

They were walking through the front door of Sango's house when the sound of Kagome smacking her forehead echoed through the hall.

"You have that party tonight. Meaning, I'm going to be stuck here minding your house all night."

"Your friends here must be having some sort of party."

"Yes, but I told them all I was going out of town already! I have no idea where any of them are."

"Well, you could come with me tonight if you want," Sango offered.

"You know I'd love to, but -" Kagome began.

"It's going to suck," Sango finished for her.

"I think I'm just going to have a nap, and call my friends later," Kagome said sheepishly. Stifling a yawn, she picked up her overnight bag and nudged open the door to the basement with her hip. "Have fun."

"Oh, I'd be having way more fun if I got to stay home and lounge around," Sango complained as she trudged up the stairs. "But no, I have to go out. To a place I don't want to go nonetheless."

Annoyed, she began to impatiently search through her closet for the dress she had purchased yesterday - it had been so long since she had last bought a practical semiformal dress. The occasion had never arisen. This had to be only the fourth or fifth time she had ever purchased one . . .

So why couldn't she find it?

"I could've sworn I put it away yesterday," she thought, getting on her hands and knees and looking underneath the bed. It turned up nothing. Neither did her drawers.

_Oh shit_.

"It must have been a pretty detailed dream if I went dress shopping," she muttered. "Great. Now what will I do?"

-

When Sango arrived at the party, she decided that the scene was frighteningly similar to last night's imaginings. A few lights, a large mounted clock, a few projection screens - exactly the same. Surpressing a shudder, she walked into the hall, glancing around suspiciously.

"I thought you would never come."

How did he always manage to sneak up on her from behind? She even had an inkling that he would . . . just like in her dream. She made a mental note to always scan every room three hundred sixty degrees.

_He's going to ask me about my day._

"How was your day?"

"The same as usual. Slept in, had coffee with a friend."

They small talked like that while Sango meandered over to the punch bowl. Sango had taken a cup, about to pour herself some when she saw, hovering over it, none other than -

"You!"

The person pouring themselves punch stared at her, dumbfounded. "Hello?"

"Sango?" Miroku asked, confused. "What's going on?"

The accused raised his hands in front of him as a peace offering. "Listen, if the envelope was open already, it was like that when I filed it!"

She took a deep breath. _It was just a dream. You don't have to be so jumpy._

Smiling, she attempted to wave it off. "I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else," she apologized.

Taking his punch, and tucking something in his pocket. "It's okay." He sighed. "The hot ones are always crazy," he mumbled to himself, before stalking away. Miroku watched after him.

"Explanation?"

"It's a long story," Sango said, pouring herself some of the punch. "Do you want?"

"Not quite yet. It's an open bar anyway."

"You and your alcohol," she chided.

He was already looking at her oddly. "Nice . . . dress," he said finally.

She immediately flushed. "I borrowed it from a friend!"

"I said it was nice."

"I don't know what you mean by 'nice'" she said sarcastically. _Damn Kagome for being shorter than her, not to mention preferring to dress less - conservatively._

"It's a nice shade of red," he complimented. _So he notices the tight, provocative, red dress, but not the basic black one? Pervert._ "Really highlights your shapely - "

"Stop right there."

"Round, full - "

"Miroku," she said warily. "I'm warning you."

"Eyes." He grinned, then looked at something over her shoulder.

Touching her shoulders gently, he leaned down close to her ear and said, "I'll see you in a bit."

She shivered. "Okay."

Crossing her arms, she put the cup to her lips and took a sip of her drink. She scrunched her nose. It was a little bitter at first. Another gulp. _That's a bit better._

Turning around she leaned against the table, scanning for Miroku in the crowd. Just as she remembered, he was surrounded by women. _Ever the entertainer, _she thought snidely. _And he's not even the host. I must have had the premonition to let me know what to expect._

Refilling her cup, she exhaled deeply and left the hall, failing to catch his eye before doing so.

-

"I have to say it again Miss Sango, you look -"

"Absolutely mouth-watering this evening?" she finished for him. He blinked.

"Had a feeling you would say something stupid like that."

"Hey," he said gently, coming closer. "What's wrong? Why are you out here moping?"

"I'm not moping."

"Yes, you are," he told her, touching her chin. Holding both thumbs to either side of her face, he pushed up on her cheeks. "Smile," he ordered.

She refused. Then he laughed at how funny her face looked at the moment. She turned away, letting her hair fan around her back as she hid her smile.

Taking another sip of her drink, she frowned as he said the same thing he'd said in her dream.

"Punch? Why so unadventurous, Sango? It's the new year, at least have a glass of champagne."

"It's a tangy sort of punch," she recited slowly.

"I'm sure it is."

"It's not time to toast yet, and this party sucks." She remembered every bit of this conversation.

"Because it's a company party?" he said. "I actually never knew this many attractive women worked with us."

Sango shook her head. "The pretty ones are the private secretaries."

They repeated the same words, fell the same way, laughed at the same times Sango had convinced herself she had dreamt last night. Everything was exactly the same, even the tingling feeling across the base of her spine as he kept her from falling.

She could almost forget that she wasn't dreaming this time. No sirree bob.

She needed more punch.

-

As they entered the hall again, Sango made a beeline for the punch bowl. Everyone was gearing up for the big countdown and Miroku had disappeared into a gaggle of women. _It won't be long before he shows up again, wanting to get all friendly. I'll show him friendly._

It was all the same - the loud, loud music, the cheers as the clock hit the one minute mark. The crowd shifting around her, everything becoming sort of blurry; feeling relaxed and excited.

Then there was Miroku, bursting through in-between a couple making out and a bored man who was part of the janitorial staff. She was sipping her champagne, smiling, when he reached his arms down around her waist.

Surprised, she dropped her glass, and he bent in reflex to catch it.

_He only came to find me because - he wanted to kiss me at midnight._

_That's why he looked almost - disappointed when I was . . . but why?_

_Pervert._

Without thinking, she tugged a glass out of the hands of the person closest to her. Gripping his shoulder firmly, she thrust her hand forward, splattering champagne all over Miroku's face.

"You're mean to me and you are a pervert!" she said loudly as liquid soaked into his clothes. "I bet - I bet you looked up my skirt when you bent down!"

"Sango?" he asked with a grimace. "Where is all this coming from?"

"Oh - you _know_ where it's coming from!" she snapped, grabbing him by the collar. "You play it up like a nice guy, a nice, normal guy, and then one second later you're all over the place! You let me get taken advantage of by that guy over there, even though it _might_ have been a dream -" she pointed to the mail clerk who was currently trying to sweet talk an intern. "_And _the worst part is -" she looked slightly sad. "You make me feel all funny down there."

She watched as Miroku's excitement levels picked up as she ran a single finger down the middle of her chest. These levels continued to rise as it continued lower . . . The excitement level made a sharp pike downward to nil as she stopped and pointed at her stomach.

She got angry again as she noticed this. Using both hands to grasp his collar she shook him.

"Were you getting off on that?" she said incredulously. He shook his head 'no'. She let go of him and fisted her hands.

Gritting her teeth, she turned around and tripped over her heels. Standing up straight, she held her head high and stormed straight out of the hall.

-

"Shit."

There was a distinct shuffling beside her, and Sango immediately stiffened. _'My head fucking hurts . . . who opened the damn curtains?'_

Another shifting of the covers, and a quiet sigh. A quiet, feminine sigh.

Wait. Backtrack.

Shifting of the covers - meaning Sango was sharing the covers. A quiet feminine sigh.

Sango was sharing the covers with another girl . . . or maybe a feminine man.

Suddenly feeling very sick, Sango lifted the sheets, relieved to find herself clothed, albeit in undergarments. Well, you couldn't have everything in life, now could you?

The still unknown female let out another melodic hum while she slept. Sango sat up, trying in vain to ignore the dizziness and feelings of nausea, and attempted to inch towards the edge of the mattress.

"Sango . . . chan."

Oh, the horror.

A long, slim arm reached towards her and propped itself across her chest.

A mass of wavy dark hair spilt across the pillows.

Now, Sango had seen Kagome in her underwear on many occasions. After all, they were both girls, and yes, they were very good friends. But somehow, when Kagome was _snuggling up to her_ while they were both wearing lingerie was uncomfortable to say the least.

Sango gripped the covers very, very tightly.

That's when she noticed there was a ring.

A ring on her ring finger.

_Was that even allowed in this country?_

"Sango-chan . . . you're so . . . cute," Kagome sighed, stroking her cheek while Sango stared at her, mortified. She was still asleep for the most part.

"That's nice, Kagome-chan," Sango whispered back, fighting back the urge to start choking her and demanding information. "Now, why don't you roll over and sleep on your front? I hear it's good for you."

"No, no," her friend moaned groggily. "You were so upset . . . "

"Kagome," Sango said, really wanting to get up and down a few aspirin tablets. "Why do I have a ring on?"

"Don't you remember?" Kagome asked, yawning. She withdrew her hand to cover her mouth, and promptly draped it over Sango again. "You were so upset . . . at that guy who you like it when he does the naughty things to you - we were just playing, and . . . I had my friends over . . . "

"You had a party in my house without telling me?" Sango said in disbelief, feeling her headache morph into a migraine.

"You said it was okay!" the semiconscious Kagome whined. "Besides - you were the one that made me miss my train . . . I was so sad. I like rum."

"Oh, you do now?" Sango commented absently, though it came out more like, "what will I do now?" except with more of a wailing quality.

Kagome was now giggling with her eyes closed. "Rum Kagome rum!" she cheered herself on.

Sango formulated a plan to slip away and then curl up into a ball in the corner of the room. Alas, Rum Kagome wasn't done yet.

"You like that guy - the naughty guy."

_Just shift away little by little. Then strap her down so that she doesn't hurt herself._

"Oh, admit it Sango-chan! You always complain about it! 'He did the naughty when I wasn't looking. He did the naughty when I ate my lunch. He did the naughty on top of the boardroom table.' What was his name again? Me-grope-you?"

She started to giggle uncontrollably. "You like him," she taunted, laughing maniacally and rolling from side to side.

Sango prodded her a bit as her rocking grew more fervent. Kagome, cackling, rolled right off the bed.

Then broke into a fit of giggles on the floor.

Sango's head lolled in circles as she tried to piece information together in her mind while her brain slowly uncoiled itself. She guessed it was trying to do her favour.

_'I wonder what's worse; a tryst with the mailroom boy or a romp in the bedroom with a close friend, who is now decidedly insane?_'

The dizzying feeling returned full force and screamed at her,_ just sleep already, never mind that you might have married your house mate, encounter many unmoving bodies downstairs or have spilled your deepest, darkest secrets to the world whilst streaking! Just sleep already so that your head stops hurting!_

_'That was a good idea,'_ she thought, somewhere between the time Kagome started to sidle onto the bed again, and Kohaku ran into the room and fainted.

So she did.


	3. The Right Card for the Right Person

A/N: Hello! Guess who I am?

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha. Though this hardly resembles it.

* * *

**Happenstance**

3: _The Right Card for the Right Person_

_#-#-#-#-#-#-#_

"This morning we have a few winds, cloudiness and a temperature of thirty degrees," the weatherman blared from the radio.

_Again? Man, do we get crappy weather here._

She tried to prop herself up on one arm, unsuccessfully. Her elbow wobbled, bent and she ended up on her back staring at the ceiling . . . in the middle of the bed.

The middle of the bed which had no one else in it.

Bed. No one else.

There was no one else in the bed!

Sango let out a deep sigh of relief and hugged her pillows to herself.

_No one in the bed -no Kagome, no mail boy, no one,_ she thought happily as she wound herself into her blankets.

That one moment of elation was the highest point she ever reached that day.

"Ane-ue, I'm leaving now."

As soon as she heard her brother say that, the suspicious feelings took over tenfold.

"Where are you going?"

"To a friend's house."

"Kohaku?"

"Yes?"

"Is it new year's eve?"

"Why?" he asked suspiciously.

"I'm . . . just wondering."

"Yes, it is," he said, lightly teasing. "Kagome left a message; she's going to visit her family for the weekend. She said she's leaving some time this evening, and that she'll stop over to see you later."

Slowly, she looked towards the calendar.

December thirty-first.

_#-#-#-#-#-#-#_

"For the _last time_ Sango, I did not, in any shape or form, have a party in your house!"

"Are you sure you don't remember _anything_?" Sango asked tentatively, wringing her hands.

Kagome stared at her solemnly. "No."

Sango covered her face with her hands, and said in a muffled voice, "what the hell is happening?"

Kagome looked from the untouched coffee mug to her distraught friend and immediately became concerned.

"Listen, I'm sorry I can't be much help to you with your -problem. I wish I could, but honestly, I don't know what to do," she said sincerely. "But we have to catch the train."

Remembering how they had barely made it to the platform yester - today, Sango thought it would be better not to bring up certain _details_ of yester - this evening.

After all, telling your friend that you both engaged in _questionable_ activity didn't sound like something she'd enjoy doing.

Unless Kagome . . .

Never mind.

She'd rather not think about it.

_#-#-#-#-#-#-#_

Sango scrambled to remember what had went on during the drive to the station. Oh yes, Kagome's soliloquy on love. How touching.

She didn't need to hear it twice.

The drive was a short (and now silent) one, and the two young woman found themselves squished onto a waiting platform with a mass of commuters. Since Sango had delayed Kagome's trip an hour or two, they were now trying to get Kagome on the rush-hour train.

"Sorry," Sango apologized to another civilian as she elbowed him out of the way. The familiar whistling of an approaching bullet train sounded, and as it slowed to a stop in the station, the mass of bodies surged forward. Thankfully, they had saved some time (this time around) and it was relatively easier to get Kagome comfortably into a seat.

"Sango!" she heard someone call. Turning around and squinting through the mass of commuters that had begun to gather, she saw a flash of a smile and a small tail of dark hair.

She waved. "Miroku," she greeted pleasantly as the peristalsis continued around them.

"Taking the train today?" he asked, attempting to look composed while trying to climb on the shoulders of the man in front of him.

"No, but you need to get on so that you can go home and get ready -"

"- for the party," he finished, looking at her strangely. "Yeah."

A jet of steam hissed from the train, signalling that it was about to leave soon; panicked, the crowd began to push harder, sandwiching them together in the process.

Then, a very distinct, very sudden, squeezing.

"Ouch!" she yelped, twisting around to try and slap him. (She couldn't, because that would involve elbowing about three or four of the innocent.)

"Someone pushed me," he explained unconvincingly.

"Nobody pushed you," she said in annoyance. She pushed him away from the train, against the crowd of people streaming around them in rush hour. "Now someone pushed you."

He went face first against the window, startling the person standing on the other side of the plexiglass.

"Not smart, my dear Sango," he said wryly as he rubbed his face. "I could have died."

"Well, you didn't," she countered, beginning to make her way to the exit. She threw him a backwards glance, and she was surprised to see he looked like he were contemplating saying something. When he didn't, she merely informed him that the next one came in a half hour, and walked out to her car.

Kagome was on the train, she could go get a decent dress - it wasn't her fault he didn't make it on the train. So he'd be late for the party. So he might not come at all. Didn't make a difference.

_#-#-#-#-#-#-#_

After stewing in her car for a while, Sango decided she was not up to dress shopping, and bought the first thing that was black, and her size. Oh, how she would regret that a few hours later.

Long sleeved. Old-fashioned collar. Down to her ankles.

It looked awful.

'_Maybe if I take off a little on the bottom and on the sleeves_,' she thought in dismay. Sure, she veered more towards the more "conservative" type of dress, but that didn't mean that she wanted to show up in a black garbage bag.

She bit her lip and gave herself another once over in the mirror. '_Shouldn't be too hard . . .'_

Half an hour later and the idea that women weren't natural seamstresses was cemented in her head.

_#-#-#-#-#-#-#_

How happy she was when she arrived to an already dark room, so far oblivious to her funeral frock. She thought it wouldn't be that hard to cut a nice v-neck out of the vicar-like collar, but when she had tried it on, she had found that the wide slit provided the perfect way for her right breast to occasionally attempt exposure to the fresh air.

She could almost hear Miroku in her head. _"Set them free!"_

The electrical tape was really chafing.

Knowing full well that Miroku wouldn't hold back on a smartass comment of the sort she was imagining, she kept an eye out for him as she squirmed around the groups of people sharing uncomfortable small talk and drinks.

_Did I just hear someone say drinks?_

Those revolutionary thoughts were interrupted when she bumped shoulders with someone taller than her. Her eyes narrowed.

"You."

The younger man's face took on a miffed expression. "You," he mimicked. Then he looked closer. "Nice dress."

Shaking her head, she walked past him (ignoring his offers of finding her more suitable apparel in his bedroom) until she realized she would not find a familiar face in this room. At least, not with the lights either dim or flashing. Oh well; at least they couldn't see her dress.

Casting one last furtive glance around, she meandered over to the open bar and pulled up a stool. Before the poor bartender could direct a word of concern towards her, she had already ordered.

"Alcohol."

He gave her a peculiar look. "Wine? Beer?"

"Antiseptic," she said dryly.

Sighing, he pulled out a bottle and a glass and pushed it towards her. "For the lady," he said simply before serving other impatient drink seekers.

_'Ooh, vodka!'_ said her brain.

_'Not vodka!'_ said her liver.

"Shut up, liver," she muttered, pinching her gut.

Now all she had to do was quietly sip an hour or two away and then maybe quietly slip out the door.

"Slave number two-six-four-eight-five-six-four , data entry."

Stiffening, she turned to her right. "Hello, Naraku."

The pale, spindly man made himself comfortable next to her. "Enjoying my party?"

Sango made an attempt to nudge the bottle and glass out of immediate view. "Yes, of course," she said with a weak smile. He was so _pale_. "You need sun."

He stared at her. "Sun? What is this 'sun' you speak of?"

She tried not to look slightly disturbed at this admission.

"I'm joking!" he exclaimed in disbelief, slapping his hand down on the bar counter. "But I hate the sun," he hissed. "Bartender! Shots!"

"So," she said, with every intent of changing the subject. "How is the family?"

"Family?" Naraku boomed, rounding on her. "As in, my kids?" he asked incredulously. "My kids are the biggest bunch of brats I ever made!"

"What?" Sango dropped her shot glass and gestured for another.

"They are!" he continued, nodding. "The oldest one -Kanna - she's a freak. I mean, she doesn't want to do anything the normal children want to do. She just sits there and stares at me. Our conversations are non-existent. 'Kanna, honey, how was school today?' She'll look at me and go, 'father, I am thirty nine years of age.' "

Sango was shaking her head in awe. "You need to nurture your children, sir."

"I have failed as a father! I have another girl, Kagura, the one that's still 'in' school. You know what I caught her doing last night?" Naraku asked, slamming down his shot glass. He paused long enough to make her think she had to offer some sort of guess. "Flashing! She was hanging out of the side of a taxi, flashing people! And how did I catch her doing this, you ask? Simple! It made the morning news! It was on news tickers everywhere!"

"Oh, that was _your_ daughter," Sango said in familiarity. "I thought you just had the same last name."

"Oh I wish!" Naraku lamented, sighing dramatically as he downed another shot. "They forget who their daddy is. I raised them! From their little petrie dishes - "

Sango coughed, spitting out her drink. The bartender gaped at her and then set to work wiping off the bar with a look from Naraku.

"I -err, didn't know you were an advocate of in-vitro fertilization," Sango managed, smacking the base of her throat lightly with the side of her fist.

"I'm not!" Naraku snapped. "Don't ever ask about that again." He turned away from her, muttering. "I've said too much!"

_#-#-#-#-#-#-#_

Sango's attention was now directed to a map that had somehow appeared on the counter, the title of North America was scribbled out and replaced with "mine."

"If I'm going to take over the world I must have vast knowledge of all countries," Naraku said seriously. "You can be my fourth-in-command."

"Fourth?"

He shrugged. "What can I say, I want more heirs first. Now, quiz me on these 'fifty states,' he ordered, taking another shot.

"WA."

"Washington."

"OR."

"Orlando."

"Orlando is in Florida, dumba -boss."

"Or . . . land . . . dy?"

"Oregon."

"I will remember that state," he said contemptuously.

"MT."

"Minnesota."

"MN."

"Minnesota."

"MO."

"Minnesota."

"There is only one Minnesota!"

"Write down those states, drone, they shall become Area 1, 2, and 3 respectively. Change it on the map as well!"

"I only have two hands!" Sango snapped at him.

"Shall we grow you another?" Naraku replied with a smile.

Then, a roar from the crowd.

"Happy New Year!"

_#-#-#-#-#-#-#_

_Ouch. Pounding. Too much pounding._

"One of the reasons I love to produce greeting cards is because I believe in 'the right card for the right person' mentality. Which is why I chose to fashion my latest set of One Night Stand cards for release early this summer."

"Shut up."

"But my fourth-in-command," the smug voice cooed. "You asked me, and I quote, 'why the hell do you own a greeting card company?'"

_Oh no. _

"Oh no."

"How about, on the front of the card, it says, 'you are a goddess,' and on the inside, 'therefore I can't date you. Thank you for the quickie.'"

"I'm going to throw up," Sango said in a dull monotone.

"Genius. Pure genius. Inspired by you, my pet."

"I'm serious." She rolled over.

"Lovely, then! Run along, darling, but come back, or else I might just have to come after you!" he said just a little too suggestively.

She grunted.

"You have just moved up to third in-command, precious. Kanna is coming along in age, after all" he mused.


	4. Portrait of a Girl

**A/N: **EDIT/PREVIEW! HOW I MISSED YOU SO.

Disclaimer: Does not own Inuyasha. Maybe I would if I tried harder.**  
**Now, this is what _not_ to do if you want to write in-character:**  
**

* * *

**Happenstance**

4: _Portrait of a Girl_

_#-#-#-#-#-#-#__  
_

"This morning we have a few winds, cloudiness, and a temperature of thirty degrees, right? Right!" Sango shouted.

"This morning we have a few winds, cloudiness --"

"Ah damn it!"

The clock flew across the room and hit the door.

A loud "ouch," then a whiny sounding "ane-ueeee" echoed from the other side.

"Go to your party!" she yelled. "When you get back, make sure you wake me up _tomorrow_ and say, 'ane-ue, it's tomorrow!' Then you may slap me and spray me with a hose if you wish."

Basically, he ignored everything she'd just said. "Are you all right, ane-ue?" He sounded a little nervous. "Did something happen?"

Her gaze seemed to say many things at once.

"Ane-ue --"

"Tell Kagome I'll see her later," she interrupted, before pressing a pillow over her ears. "Let's just try and have a good day." Then silence. For the moment, beautiful, wonderful silence.

When she heard the door open and shut, she took advantage of the calm moment and had a miniature brainstorm session where she contemplated a few possibilities of her situation.

How about testing the conditions of her situation by trying to kill herself? Seeing as if she happened to come back to life . . . she'd technically be immortal.

_It sounded good in my head_, she pouted inwardly to her rational side, which was about ninety percent of her. And at times like these, it attempted to be comforting like a warm fuzzy blanket, but usually it was more like being offered a wet towel to dry off with. One that poured brown water when you wrung it. This, like all things, would come to pass. She was human, with a brain, and she'd figure this out, without accidentally dying in the process. Since these kind of things happen to _everyone_. Obviously.

In a futile attempt to pacify the upset woman, her little house cat jumped quaintly onto the bed and started walking over her master's body and resting upon the other pillow, staring at the distraught girl quizzically with wide, orange eyes.

"I wonder if time shifts happen with animals," Sango muttered, looking back at the feline. "Hey Kirara, what do you think about time shifts?"

The dainty little kitten swiftly began to groom itself, in a 'I can't believe you just tried to ask your pet about time shifts' sort of way.

Sango discarded the pillow she was holding and started to get dressed. Upon completing, she scooped up the cat in her arms with the intent to bring it outside. Descending the stairs, she exited her house.

_This can't just be me -- I mean, it's been two days of the same thing. That can't just be a coincidence . . . I'm not crazy. I'm rational, I'm practical. In fact, I never act the way I have been recently. _

_Everything is wonderfully fine and routine. Well in a way it still is. Fine and routine. Fine and --_

She heard a sudden whistling, before she felt Kirara flatten into a furry piece of toast against her chest and she tripped backwards onto the sidewalk.

--

"I'm really sorry," a man's voice echoed in her ear, but she didn't really hear as her mind was still on _'routine'_.

"Get off my cat."

"Your cat?"

He lifted partway off her, and the animal screeched and ran far, far away. She looked up to see him watching it with a bemused expression.

"Shall I go after it?"

She sighed. "She's got tags on."

He sighed too. "And I thought you were just wearing furry lingerie, Miss Sango."

Her lips formed such a thin line they almost disappeared. Oh, she'd know that voice talking about lingerie _anywhere_.

"Get off me."

He looked down, smirked, and shook his head. "No."

Her lip reappeared and she bared her teeth. "Yes," she hissed, and squirmed underneath him.

He dropped his full weight on top of her.

"There are no more living creatures between us for sacrificial purposes," she snapped, pushing him to the side where he rolled partway onto the street. "Where are the eighteen wheelers when you really need them."

Amazingly, he was _still_ smiling at her. "It's a neighbourhood street, my dear."

"And what will the neighbours think!"

"They'll think, 'look at those two beautiful people out there consummating their love on our front lawn.'"

"Get off my street."

"Your street?"

"Just the parts that you walk on," she told him, dusting herself off. Perhaps she should start looking for her cat.

He looked thoughtful. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Sango put her hands on her hips and drew in a small, exasperated breath. "There's a car coming," she said casually.

He was back on the street and standing next to her.

"I didn't say to move!" she protested when he approached her amiably once again.

"You don't really want me dead, do you?"

She closed her eyes and sighed. "Don't try it. That's a cop out. Be a man."

"So you don't." He suddenly looked extremely happy. "Admit it, you love having me around. Although, if I were to die, I'd have unfinished business and be able to hang around as a ghost and --"

"I think that's enough." Shaking her head, she walked away, smiling to herself. At a reasonable distance, she spun on her heel and made a teasing face at him. "And to what do I owe our initial contact?"

"Well that's easy," he shot back, smoothing back his hair. "That woman across the street that was jogging. Without support."

"And traumatizing my cat fits in where?" she inquired, rolling her eyes.

"Hey," he said defensively. "I whistled, and turned around to perhaps run behind her, and what did I behold? What I thought to be furry lingerie! And I, as an avid cat-lover, wanted to make sure it was artificial."

"By running into me when I am standing stationary in one spot?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes."

He looked so serious, standing there in a simple casual shirt and slacks with a few bits of road dust on his clothes that her lips had to break out into a smile.

She waited for him to catch up to her on the sidewalk.

"So you live around here?" he asked, looking around at the quiet street.

"Yes, but don't get any bright ideas." She stretched her arms back and shoved them in her pockets.

"I won't be serenading you under your window anytime soon."

She glanced over at him, looking ahead and half-serious. "The one thing that is remotely romantic and non-sexual, you won't do."

He stared at her apologetic expression sceptically. "So shall I ..."

"Joking, joking."

"I know." Surprisingly, he grinned at her. "You hardly ever joke. Not like this, at least."

Automatically, her eyes moved to her feet. "What are you talking about?" she mumbled.

"I don't know," he said before a thoughtful pause. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you always seem -- uptight."

"Uptight?"

"You're always worried about everything, sometimes things that you shouldn't even worry about."

"You think I worry too much?" she said in dismay. What if everyone thought of her like that?

"See, now you're worrying about your image. It's a good quality. You care. You should care about yourself too."

"Hey, I do care about myself!" Sango retorted, stopping mid-step.

"So if I, you know, come on to you," he said evenly, continuing to walk. "It's because you get annoyed, and red, and angry --"

"Why, thank you."

" -- and you forget about being this 'public' Sango." His walking slowed. "You don't have to. And you aren't around me. Well, you tried at first, but I got through to you." He smiled wryly at this accomplishment.

She didn't feel like making a smart comment back at the moment, no matter how ironic it was that her apparent true nature was her pissed-off one. Sure it didn't justify _everything_ he did, but either that was a true motive or he was just good at coming up with things like this on the spot.

Unfortunately, it was times like these that she wished she was gifted in that particular area.

"I beg your pardon?" he said in response to the unintelligible noise she made. It was somewhere between almost throwing up and saying hello.

"Nothing."

"I should probably get going," he spoke up, looking at his wristwatch. The uncomfortable tension between them was beginning to get awkward.

"To the train station, right?" she said before thinking. "You have to get on the train to get home . . ."

He looked startled, and then winked at her. "Maybe you know more about me than you think you do. Although -- that is kind of creepy."

Embarrassed, she stared at her hands again.

"See you tonight."

"Yeah," she said uncomfortably, remembering what was to come that evening. "Hey," she called to his retreating back. "Keep an eye out for me, okay?"

He nodded, regarding her oddly. "Will do."

"Hey," he called back to her. "Can I take you up on the serenade? Because I can make my singing lead to very sexual things."

Annoyed, she smiled. "No thank you."

"You're right," he said as an afterthought. "We'll skip right to it."

She laughed with her eyes closed as the sunlight bathed her face, only a tiny bit aware that today might never end.

A person finds that in the oddest situations, they might do the oddest things; such as saying what they wanted to say when they felt like saying it, if only just to have it spoken and heard.

--

Sango had barely put the key in the lock before it was enthusiastically swung open.

"Sango-chan!" a hauntingly familiar dark haired girl squealed, embracing her in a tight, hauntingly familiar hug.

Sango stiffly patted her on the back.

Kagome pulled away and stepped aside to let her friend into the house. "Where'd you go? When I called Kohaku was here. Where'd you go?"

"For a walk," Sango replied casually as she took off her shoes. "Is the cat here?"

"Yeah, but something's up with her; she won't come out from under my bed."

Sango sighed audibly. "Maybe this will prevent her from coming home pregnant one day. Men will only squish you and leave you. No, Kagome," she said sharply, as she noticed the strange look her friend was giving her.

"Ooh _men_ Sango-chan? _Men _is a word that denotes the plural of man."

Sango feigned a gasp. "Really?"

"Geez Sango-chan, why do you always have to be so sarcastic about every little thing?"

Sango ignored her.

"I mean, if you would just _consider_ stepping up your game in the playing field, I wouldn't be so insistent that you do! Not to mention that the last time you _ever_ had a boyfriend was for about a week in the summer after high school was over and --"

"_Two_ weeks."

"And the poor guy was head over heels for you and probably _cried_, Sango, _cried_!"

"He was too -- egh."

"He wasn't that bad! There was that issue with his mouth but that was all!" Kagome insisted.

Sango sighed. "It was overbite."

"But we are supposed to love for the _feeling! _"

Sango walked up the stairs and into Kagome's room.

"Why aren't you _listening_ to me? I hate when you do this, Sango-chan. I'm just trying to give you advice, but no, you have to _ignore_ me when you don't want to hear it!"

Sango looked under the bed. Poor cat had wedged itself firmly between the bed and the baseboards.

"Furthermore, you're always so _blah_. Never want to get dressed up, and go places. It's always _business_. I bet the whole time I'm away for the holiday, you won't do anything but sit at home and play Monopoly, but since I'm not here for you to force to play, you'll play by _yourself_."

"At least it'd be a closer game. I might just beat myself," Sango replied dully.

"See? That's what I'm _saying. _Now, if only you'd do something more exciting with yourself and stop being so -- egh."

"I am not egh!"

Kagome smiled triumphantly. She had gotten what she wanted -- a reaction.

"You are _so_ egh!"

Sango let a tiny -- _tiny_ -- minuscule grumble escape.

"Sango-chan? Would you like to borrow some of my clothes tonight? So you don't look so egh?" Kagome sang. "Sango-chan, you should fix your hair for more than two minutes, it'd be decidedly less egh. Sango- chan --"

Sango-chan glared at her. "Don't you have to go home this weekend?"

Kagome attempted to glare back. "Yes. That doesn't mean I can't help you!"

The one in need of help sighed. "I don't want to go."

Kagome looked as though that idea was utterly out of the question. "You can't!" she exclaimed.

"Yes. I can't go."

"Why not! It's a party! On New Year's. New Year's!"

"That echo is quite unnecessary."

"Come on," Kagome whined, pulling on her arm. "I'll set you up with something nice to wear. Then you can take me to the train station."

--

Sango still didn't want to go to the party, in fear of 'the next day's' results. Well, she had asked Miroku for some assistance. She couldn't help laughing inwardly. Assistance. Ha.

"This one will look nice," Kagome cooed as she thrust a dress on a hanger at Sango, who looked down at it warily.

"It seems kind of . . . light."

"Of course it's light! It's a rayon and nylon hybrid."

"I see."

Silence.

"Well, do you like it?" Kagome inquired impatiently.

Sango hesitated. "It seems kind of --"

"Yes?" Kagome prompted.

"Short."

"Short? How is that short! It only goes up to about -- here -- on me." She indicated an area between her knee and mid-thigh.

"You're forgetting that I'm _taller_ than you. I'd rather not smile at people with my ass."

Kagome's eye twitched. "Not _that_ much taller! You didn't even try it on yet. You just had to be all stingy and sarcastic about it."

"Yes, sarcastic."

Kagome pointed at her in horror. "Yes! Just like that!"

Sango could only sigh and lay the dress on her bed. "Come on, let's get you to the station."

"See, you're doing it again! I'm not _that_ much younger than you! Which doesn't make you that _old_, and therefore waives your right to act like a cranky eighty two year old woman."

A stiff Sango fought the urge to fire back with, _'sure, an old woman. That's me. Let's get in the car now. Come on. Easy does it.'_ However, being as wise as an adult as she was, decided not to further the argument.

"I'm not old."

Kagome snickered. "You're not fooling me. Trying to be all cunning like -- like you haven't grown up too fast, not to _mention_ --"

Sango whipped around from where she was standing outside the door, waiting for Kagome to put her shoes on. _'You wouldn't,'_ her expression seemed to dare the younger girl.

_'Oh yeah. I will.'_

"Ugh."

--

Driving was certainly lovely. It was a truly lovely thing to do on a crisp, cool mid-afternoon. Alone. See, that one little detail, that one extra body that might happen to be in the car with you, really decided if the drive would be lovely or not.

"You're only harping on me about Inuyasha because _you_ just stand at bat but can't make a hit! And forget about walking the bases, you just get right back to your bench."

"How was I harping on him?" Sango sniped at her passenger. "All I said is that you should quit it with the petty insults thing."

"What petty insults?"

"I mean things along the line of, 'you're old and way too mature, and because of that you can't get a guy to jump into bed with you.'"

Kagome shrugged. "It's true."

"Is not."

"Is --"

"No. I can and I will."

Kagome smiled. "You will?"

Sango shook her head. "No. What I meant was, 'I can.' And, someone with a job, thank you very much."

"He _has _a job!"

"Right." Sango smirked. "Hey," she said warningly as Kagome reached for the rear-view mirror, "it's just my old and dusty opinion. You know, since being old is usually associated with wisdom."

"Nothing you have wisdom of," Kagome countered.

"Out. Please."

"I win," the passenger declared as she exited the stopped vehicle. She paused to preen herself for a moment before taking her bag out of the back-seat.

"Yeah, you are a winner for sure," Sango commented as the pair strode towards the platform. "I'll miss having your winning ways in the house with me."

Her friend pushed her gently. "I know you'll miss me," she assured her, looking down at her watch. "Well, someone was sure driving aggressively," she said, rolling her eyes. "It's not even that crowded yet."

Sure enough, ten minutes later, it was safe to say that it was crowded. One thing that annoyed Sango was being early for something that was "first come, first served," only to be overtaken by overexcited people that were agitated, and key word, late.

As the train pulled in, there was that familiar surge of people who wanted to get the window seats for themselves. Not to mention the aisle seat for their bags. Or the single seats to avoid the tired, sleeping people that leaned on you and always had to have a funny odour to them.

"Stop pushing me," Kagome complained as Sango tried to force her through to the doors.

"I'm helping you."

"So am I!"

Kagome let out a shrill, split-second yell, then tried to look apologetic afterwards to those who were around her. "Sango!" she hissed. "Did you --"

"No, I didn't!"

"She's lying."

"What? You're lying Miroku. Miroku?"

"Miss Sango, what a surprise seeing you here," he greeted, grinning. "Moreover, I hope you know this young woman here whom you were just grabbing the posterior of."

Sango looked in the other direction and feigned stretching with one hand while she slapped him upside the head with the other. She looked back ahead of her to see Kagome nodding and winking at her. She responded with a face of her own, which included the crossing of her eyes.

"Hopeless," Kagome laughed as Sango rushed them both forward, pushing them to the doors.

She saw him and Kagome safely fall into the train, quickly grabbing onto the overhead bars as they were throttled around. Miroku craned his neck to look out the window, giving Sango a thumbs up as the doors shut and the train accelerated away.

--

The room seemed humid to Sango as she walked inconspicuously into the hall. Strangely, it even seemed a bit more lively. She shook her head. _That_ thought was completely the work of her imagination. She sauntered over towards the refreshments and gave the table a long, hard look.

"Sango, you showed," Miroku's voice intoned from over her shoulder. He nudged her side. "Oh no, a hungry woman. What traumatic event occurred today?"

She turned around to scowl at him. "It wasn't _traumatic_," she clarified, turning back to the table and nonchalantly pouring herself a cup of the inviting red drink. It looked so innocent, with the little melon balls floating around in it and all. "I just had a minor disagreement with my house mate over something."

"Oh, the girl that was with you at the station?" Miroku said, leaning his back against the table's edge. "Women."

"I know," Sango nodded in agreement, rolling a grape along her tongue. "Naturally, it was over a _guy_."

He raised an eyebrow. "A guy?"

"Her guy," she told him, ladling more punch into her cup. "Right now she's seeing this guy who is kind of -- odd.."

"Odd? In what way?" he prompted, seeming genuinely interested.

"Honestly," Sango began in a quieter tone, "it's probably bad to be talking about this, but this really irritated me."

Miroku strained to hear her over the music. "No worries, I'm here for you remember, even in the girly way, I guess," he said unsurely.

He looked at her to find her scrutinizing him carefully. "I'm...going to go make some rounds, greet some people," he said, hoping to steer the conversation in another direction. "You should too; you just got here and you should try and have some fun."

Sango pursed her lips, looking around at the people shuffling around on the dance floor and sitting at their tables looking bored. "I will too, in a sec," she assured him. "You go on, I'll be over here most likely."

He glanced at her sceptically, to which she responded with a thumbs up, and off he went. Sango refilled her cup and walked off to find someone she recognized.

--

"Have you even left this spot?" was the first thing he said when she saw him walking towards her again.

"Yes, in fact I have," Sango said curtly, crossing her arms. "Most of the people I said hi to were pretty much in agreement with the statement 'this really sucks.'"

"You're not going to let that go, are you?"

"Let what go?"

"That you don't want to be here?"

"That's not true."

He had to fight back a chuckle. "Then why are you here?"

As he said that, she began flushing, and a few seconds later, had progressed beyond that. If the coloured lights flashing around the room happened to be blue, her face shone purple.

"Well?" he prodded, feeling a little light-headed himself.

"Well what," she snapped.

"Why did you come?"

She mumbled something in a small voice, nearly impossible to catch.

"Pardon me?" he asked.

"I said, she made fun of me," she grumbled impatiently.

"She made fun of you," he repeated, then promptly shook his head. "Because you didn't want to come?"

"No, because I'm old and boring and don't want to do anything with myself."

He tried to keep a straight face. "Sango, I don't --"

"Which is not true at all! _I _just said that _she_ should be thinking about that boyfriend of hers who goes from job to job and seems to be angry all the time. I make a few suggestions and _she _takes it the wrong way!" She whirled around and refilled her cup. "You know, she thinks it's funny too, but it's annoying. I just try to take care of her..."

"Well, I --"

"Hey, Miroku," she exclaimed suddenly, rounding on him. "Is it true? Do you think I'm _old_?"

He started to smirk, again holding back the urge to laugh, although a sputter escaped with every second word, should she let him get that far. "Miss Sango, you're only in your twenties --"

"I mean the way I _act_," she interrupted. "You said something about it before, awhile ago. Do you?"

"Maybe you two girls just misunderstand each other," he said as his offering of sage advice. "Maybe you should really talk to this man of hers before --"

"You're right," Sango said, backing away and turning her attention to her cup. "I should. But _after_ we talk about our own little issues."

"Oh yes, yes definitely," Miroku agreed instantly.

She stood there for awhile, looking smug and thoughtful, and occasionally hiccuping.

"You know what Sango?"

"Miroku! You didn't answer the question!" she nearly shrieked upon realization. "Am I --" she lowered her voice again. "Am I _old_?"

Even though it was obvious that his answer wouldn't really be remembered later on, he decided to be honest. Well, not really -- he decided to try his best. Something like that.

"You're a very pretty woman Miss Sango."

He vaguely thought that it was quite a coincidence the countdown decided to start right at the end of his sentence. Five, when her lips pursed. Four, when she started looking him up and down. Three, she put down the cup (a move in her favour, he wasn't all too sure about his). Two, she opened her mouth --

"I AM N--"

One.

Sango's eyebrows furrowed deeply as she found a hand clamped over her mouth. She really, really wanted to scream something about not being silenced, or that she didn't know where those hands have been, or something about that _implication_ that she could be categorized as old and boring.

"Ow!" Miroku drew his hand back, shaking it and rubbing at the brand new teeth marks. "Oh, real mature."

"There's just no convincing you. _Men_," she hissed, giving him another one of her scrutinizing stares. "I'm going to go talk to that girl."

"Hey, that might not be such a good idea," Miroku interrupted, taking her arm firmly. "You told me earlier, and you _did_, so believe me," he said, making sure to stare at her long and hard. "To watch out for you. So, I am going to take you home, and that will be the end of it. Okay?"

He started pulling her towards the double doors, muttering hurried apologies to the partygoers who happened -- just happened -- to be enjoying themselves.

"You -- you!" Sango was sputtering as he tried to push her into the passenger seat of his car -- gently as possible. "Yes, me," he sighed, strapping the seat belt in. She went on as he shut the door on her side, muffling the sound for awhile.

"You make me so mad!" she yelled, as he opened the door on the other side.

"Tomorrow morning, I'll call," he told the now riled woman. "You are definitely not a happy drunk."

--

"Oh no. Stop, please?"

Sango felt nice and warm and wrapped up in bedcovers, and would have felt even nicer if she wasn't bouncing around on top of the mattress. Whoever else was in her room better stop shaking the bed or kicking the mattress or whatever it was.

"Hey," she called out, poking her head from under the covers. "Kohaku, stop shaking the --"

"I thought you'd just lie around all day, woman."

A horrified expression formed on Sango's face, nicely complimenting her wide, round eyes.

"So I bet you just dropped by to see Kagome; she went home for the holiday as I'm sure you know," she said in a surprisingly matter-of-fact way.

The tall, built Inuyasha just crossed his arms and grunted. "Not even close."

--

She remembered that she should be used to this by now. So as calmly as she could, she sat up, adjusted what little clothing she had on, and coolly regarded her temporary roommate. She had never got to have a good look at him anyway. At least he was wearing pants.

"So what brings you here?"

He stared at her incredulously. "You don't remember?"

She shrugged. "I didn't say I don't."

He rolled his eyes, muttering, 'women,' under his breath. "Kagome called me last night." He paused to glare at Sango. "And she was really mad, for _some reason_." He paced the length of the room about twice before stopping to repeatedly punch a rather delicate spot on the wall.

"I came here to see her, I came all the way out here, to see just what the hell was going on. You answered the door, and when I told you who I was, you just started going on and on about the same stuff that she was! And we fought, I guess, since it's a mess downstairs, plus there's some kid down there."

By this time, Sango had started to massage her temples, partially due to Inuyasha yelling every other word, occasionally punctuating his sentences with a nice jab to the dented wall.

"So you ah -- you weren't here in my uh, my bed, right?"

"Of course I was!"

"What's that supposed to mean!"

"That I woke up here!"

"So you don't know what happened?" Sango asked in dismay.

"Can't remember," he confessed. He glared at her again. "Kagome is going to be pissed."

"At you," Sango said lazily, leaning back and relaxing. "I think it's obvious what happened here."

"It is not!" he growled, "how can you be so calm! I think it's obvious you were partly responsible."

"I was?"

"You weren't exactly screaming, 'no, no' were you? But you did call me quite a lot of names."

A tense silence thickened between them and settled; then was promptly shattered with a sudden fit of giggling escaping from between Sango's lips.

"You're _laughing_?" Inuyasha gaped at her.

"But isn't it funny? Like, a little bit? I mean, Kagome and I get into a little fight and then I take it all the wrong way, start badmouthing you because even Kagome must recognize a problem such as, say -- anger management and having no source of income. Then I go to this lame party and I think Miroku was there -- well somehow I got home. And now I end up here with you, beating the crap out of my bed and my _wall_." She tucked her head under the covers, mock whining and moaning. "The worst thing is," she said to him, muffled behind the bed sheet. "Is that I can't agree with Kagome when she says you are good at _some_ things."

Inuyasha stared dumbly at the mass beneath the covers, then shook his head and punched the wall again.


End file.
